Rivers Deep, Mountains High
by HeartOfParadise
Summary: In the years after the fall of the Capitol, Johanna Mason struggles to pick up the pieces of her life. With everyone she cared deeply about dead, Johanna resorts to writing to a man who had stolen her heart. This is a series of messages-in-a-bottle from Johanna Mason to her love, Finnick Odair.
1. Chapter 1: The Aftermath

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or any characters created by Suzanne Collins. If I did, Rue and Finnick wouldn't have died.**

**A/N: I've always been fascinated by Johanna Mason, the character that I believed is the most 'real' out of the whole entire series. And Finnick Odair is just a sex god; I think it's probably impossible not to be in love with him :D As much as I ship Finnick/Annie, I think Johanna would've been as equally good with Finnick, just because she is so different from Annie. RIP Finnick, you'll always be loved.**

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Finnick,

I know this is ridiculous, but I have to talk to you anyway. No, I haven't gone out of my mind and suddenly believed that I can talk to the dead; this girl's still as sharp as ever. But ever since you're gone all the pent up emotions inside me are threatening to explode. I've never told anyone this before, but I guess there's a first time to everything. So here goes, Finnick. Here goes.

I guess I could start with how much you mean to me, and tell you how your sea-green eyes made me drown every time I look into them, but I'm sure Annie told you all that too many times already. I could tell you that you were the first to make me really laugh, that you were the first person to really understand me as more than just Victor, but that's too lame and not at all Johanna Mason. No, it's too cliché. I won't say I'm in love.

You were the worst, Finnick, you truly were. Breaking down my barriers and then leaving me to myself. The worst thing was I don't think you ever realised what an effect you have. I was born insecure, but meeting you and talking to you had made me more unsure than ever. Hell, I wasn't about to change who I am for anyone, but you were the first to make me question myself. I knew that I wasn't the friendliest or the prettiest, but that never really mattered to me. That's why I was so scared the day I found out that I do care, that it does matter what you thought of me. Whether it'd be as a friend or something more, I had wanted you to remember me as more than just the sarcastic bitch that I've been all these years. But old habits die hard, eh, Finnick? You and your sugar cubes, and me and my razor-sharp tongue. I can't change myself, not for the better or the worse. The independence, the sarcasm, the tough-girl attitude, that's all me. But I guess a boy born and bred in the coastal District Four preferred the grace and the flowing fluidity of a soft personality, not the prickly thing that I have to offer.

Perhaps all I needed was to cross the water to get to you, but I've always been too afraid. I was fire through and through, and you were flowing rivers and rolling oceans. I guess it was never meant to be, but it was my nature to be stubborn and go ahead with loving you anyway.

I don't think you ever knew that, Finnick. I don't think you ever realised how much I cared for you, as more than just the best friend and partner-in-crime. It's understandable; you had the whole world in your arms in the form of Annie. Annie Cresta, the wisp of a girl whose presence is other-worldly somehow, as though she's a fairy trapped in our very human world. She's the polar opposite to me. Maybe that's why you loved her, the soft and vulnerable girl to whom your protection and love was essential. Me, I was the best friend, your drinking buddy and the one who stayed up all night talking to you. Oh, I know I meant something to you, just not the right _something. _Hell, I could've been a boy for all you cared.

Annie's out of her mind grieving for you, you know. It's been more than a year, and she is still as lost to the rest of the world as ever. I catch her wandering the beaches in the evenings sometimes, singing some ancient tune to the ocean winds. At other times, she would drop whatever she's doing to rush down to the water, going knee-deep in full clothes and just look out across the sea as though she may find you there. People smile pityingly at her, shaking their heads a little and send her their condolences, and at times like these I just want to scream. She's allowed to grieve, yet I'm expected to be as strong as ever. I guess no one saw that just as her love for you is rivers deep, mine is mountains high. Ah, old Johanna Mason would be scoffing at the soppiness of that statement, but this frighteningly new Johanna Mason is somehow nodding in agreement. I'm not accustomed to this new me, Finn. It's strange and altogether too weird to _feel _so much. I miss the old me, the fun me who made jokes at everyone's expenses and swapped your vodka tumbler for vinegar. Remember the time we tricked Haymitch and Chaff into drinking dishwater? My sides ached for days afterwards from laughing; those two were just too drunk and so fun to pranked on. We were quite a pair, weren't we?

Maybe it's just as well that it never worked out that way for the two of us. We would've been something of the nightmare couple, what with all the tricks we had up our sleeves. And, well, little Kai would've never existed if you weren't with Annie. She had your baby, Finn. He's barely six months old, but already he's got the charming smile and twinkling eyes that you broke so many hearts with. I suggested Kai, you know. It means 'ocean' in some old language, and I thought you'd like that. The sea did mean so much to you, after all.

I think you'd scoff if anyone told you that Johanna Mason has a maternal side, but I can't deny that I have a soft spot for your son, Finnick. Maybe it's his eyes, maybe it's because you're his father. Then again, I've been spending an awful lot of time with him. Annie's been not quite here, and I guess I've kind of became Aunty Johanna. I have to say I never did like little children, but this one is something else. He's grown on me, this kid. I'm still mildly surprised that Annie asked for me to come, instead of Katniss or her mother. Trust Annie to choose the prickliest person to look out for her son. I would call her mad, but I know you'll hate me forever for that, so I won't. Maybe this strange choice of me is for her sake more than Kai's; I am the only other person who has truly known you. Well, whatever the reason, I don't mind being here. The hard truth is that District Seven is incredibly lonely. I never really belonged there, or anywhere else for that matter, but now it's like I'm an alien amongst them. I guess it's the same for Annie and your district. Ah well, birds of a feather flock together. Victors United, eh? No, more like Broken Victors United. That's much closer to the truth.

It's funny how a girl could be so afraid of water, yet so drawn to it at the same time. I've lost count of how many times I've wandered these beaches, skirting the lapping waves and never mustering up enough guts to let the water run over my bare feet. I guess the Capitol ruined that for me forever. Well, maybe one day I'll work up the courage to step into the sea. Maybe that'll be the day I can finally let you go.

I miss you, Finnick.

Your JoJo

PS: To this day, you're still the only one who had called me that.


	2. Chapter 2: Victory Tour

**Disclaimer: Do I sound like Suzanne Collins to you?**

**A/N: Hmmm, I think the last letter made Johanna too nice. Hopefully this one's not too OOC, but if there's anything you reckon is way off, please leave me a review. I like to improve where I can :D Even if not, I'd love to hear from you all anyway :D**

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Finnick,

Life is a shamble down here on Earth. You wouldn't think it, what with the butter yellow sun and the mockingjays singing so much, but it's positively crappy here. I'm back in District Twelve for the second time, visiting a hormonal Katniss and an insane Peeta. It's not pleasant. Haymitch opted out for this one, slinking away to the Capitol for the week, and good old Johanna Mason's left with all the problems. I'm beginning to miss the morphling real bad. Anything to stop Katniss' moping voice and Peeta's yells.

He relapsed, Peeta did. Went back to thinking Katniss is a mutt, only coming back occasionally to cry like a baby and apologise for hurting her. It's driving me crazy trying to stop him. I know, I know. I should be more sympathetic, especially since I was there when they hijacked him, but _come on_! To be honest I feel like slapping him senseless sometimes, since it's probably the only way to knock some sense back into him. Ah, you're thinking I'm acting like a bitch now, aren't you? I can see you shaking your head at me, Finnick, don't you think I can't. But I can't help it. And Peeta's only the beginning of my problems.

Katniss is a whole other story. I didn't like her at all when I met her, but I'd rather deal with that Katniss than this ghost of a girl. She walks about dazed, and then all she does is sob when Peeta attacked her. He thinks she's the one who's responsible for this last Hunger Games, the one with the Capitol children. And she is. She voted for it and all. But watching the broadcast of the Games flipped the switch for him. He calls her 'Snow' sometimes, in between punching her, and she lets him do it. She's hurt, I know, with her sister's death and all that's in between, but the fire's out of her completely. It really is the most I can do not to shake both of them. They're eighteen now. When we were that age, we both knew that life's not fair and hurting does nothing to help that. Hell, we knew that years earlier. They can't possibly be that innocent, can they?

And they're supposed to be the star-crossed lovers, the symbol of love and hope for the whole of Panem. What would that make us then, Romeo and Juliet? Peeta was tortured real bad, but I had the same done to me and I never forgot about love. Good thing they never knew about you, otherwise I don't think I would've been able to keep silent. Sure, the cause was great, but you meant so much more to me. Ah, there we go again. I promised that I wouldn't be cliché, but I guess that's easier said than done.

Crazy as it seems, I have to admit that I wanted them to torture me like they did Peeta in those cruel Capitol days. Just because then they would've deemed me valuable enough to you, that I meant enough to you for my torture to make you stop fighting for the cause. But it's Annie Cresta they took, poor mad Annie who was your whole world and beyond. I was there purely for the information, not as a ransom. But we held our own, even delicate Annie. We held our own. I wish I could hear you say you're as proud as me as you were of Annie for staying true. Don't deny it; I've heard you two whispering enough.

She's busy at District Four now, your Annie. The Victory tour is set to start in a week, starting from District Twelve as always. It's scary how nothing has changed, not yet anyway. But they deserved it, those Capitol people. They deserved every last death, and this Hunger Games is just a taste of what we've suffered for decades. You wouldn't have approved of this one final Games, and Annie said as much, but it's only fair. She's making quite a fuss about having to host the Victory tour in Four, since she did vote against this whole idea, but I'm standing my grounds. In a strange way, I'm excited to see them come to my district, to stand up there as the host from District Seven. Since I won't be looking at the broken and starving children of my district welcoming the killer of their own, but watching the Capitolists fall apart at the seams instead. That, if nothing else, will be worth it.

But before that, I have to somehow sort out Peeta and Katniss. I'm not looking forward to it, and I may possibly kill Haymitch when he gets back from the Capitol. To think he ditched me with them! But she snapped back at me yesterday for something-or-rather, and I'm beginning to think that the end of this torture won't be far off after all. I must admit I kind of miss having her as my arguing partner. She's just as angular and sharp tongued as me, and it's a nice break from the sappy kindness of everyone else. But I'd sooner claw out my eye than admit that to her.

She's off to try out her Victory tour dress now. It had taken me and Effie Trinket a good fifteen minutes to shove her into the fitting room, but now she's in the hands of her strange prep team and I'm free to breathe for a moment. She didn't want to put the dress at all, not that I blame her, but Effie insisted and neither of us had the strength to argue. Even after her ordeal Effie Trinket is a stickler for all things proper, and keeping up the appearances at Victory tours is one of them. Good thing my escort is dead. I plan to host the show in the everyday clothes of District Seven. I mean, what is the point of dragging Capitol people to the districts to see us dressing like them? They need a good dose of district reality, and I'm going to give it to them.

Oh dear, there's screaming next door. Seems like Peeta relapsed again. Well, until next time Finnick.

Your JoJo

PS: Kai learnt his first word a couple of weeks back. And guess what it was? "JoJo". He calls me JoJo just like you. Annie's convinced that his first word was "Mama", and the whole "JoJo" thing was just garbled baby talk, but I know better. He called me JoJo, Finnick. His first word was my name.


End file.
